


Frame of Mind

by urusai_lilania



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Attempted Murder, Character Death, Choking, Crying, Depression, Drinking, Gen, Men Crying, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 08:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14493249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urusai_lilania/pseuds/urusai_lilania
Summary: Depression can do many things to a man. Loss, even more. Tony suffers from both, and he can't help but blame the little witch the Avengers adopted for all that's happened to them.





	Frame of Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cesia_Dalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesia_Dalia/gifts).



> It's worth noting that I really DO like Scarlet Witch, but a request is a request! So here's a story about being at the end of your rope and suffering from a particularly bad case of tunnel-vision.

“You really should slow down,” Steve pressed softly, resting his hand atop Tony’s slumped shoulder.

“It’s fine.”

Gently Steve leaned in to whisper in his friend’s ear. “It really isn’t.”

“It’s _fine_.”

“Tony…”

Slamming his hand atop the counter, Tony spun around in his seat and swatted the offender away. “Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Steve! It’s _fine_! Go fucking play boy scouts with your best friend already!”

“You’re important too,” Steve murmured, pained.

Tony’s chest stung. What had he wanted to hear just then? That it wasn’t really Bucky Barnes, but _Tony_ that was Steve’s best friend? Maybe, once upon a time, the blonde might have said something of the sort, but now that Bucky was back in his life…

Bucky belonged to an exclusive club that Tony, in his darker moments, wasn’t sure how to deal with. For starters, he was an enemy once, and for seconds, he had kind of sort of only _brutally murdered_ both of Tony’s parents. That left a profound bruise on Tony’s already-addled brain. But, if he wanted to keep on being close to Steve, he needed to grudgingly accept Bucky into the fold. Steve had made Bucky’s importance _more_ than clear.

More night terrors.

But there was one particular enemy-turned-ally that haunted Tony even more—little, misleadingly diminutive Wanda Maximoff. He still wasn’t entirely certain she wasn’t influencing his mind even now. He didn’t want to hate Steve, yet the thought was there. He didn’t want to keep seeing that shield coming at him, over and over and over, harder and harder and harder, yet it did. He didn’t want to see his little family torn apart, dead… yet this young woman had been at the center of the tear more than once, aggravating it, snagging it, ripping it wide open, nearly leading them all to their doom.

Once upon a time, the Avengers had had a tough fight against Ultron. They saved Sokovia—hell, the world!—at a cost. At what cost depended on who you asked. Tony lost his dear friend in the chaos; Bruce had jumped ship at the first opportunity, returning to his preferred life in the shadows. Tony couldn’t blame him. The witch had messed with his head pretty good, and even though none of the others really _blamed_ him for his part in creating Ultron… he still felt the personal guilt, Tony was sure. Bruce, if anything, wore his guilt on his sleeve. And so he hid, so far out of Tony’s reach.

Most of the incident with Sokovia had fallen onto Tony’s shoulders; he had created Ultron, and thus it was his problem. He didn’t do things for the team, they said. Well, he had a change of heart the next time the witch got involved in something nasty. She’d accidentally killed a bunch of civilians, and the Avengers were split apart as they fought for what they felt was right, as always. The Sokovia Accords… Tony had signed. To hell with it; they were _all_ accountable. But then Bucky had to show up, and Steve had to make the tough call. He sided with the questionables. Didn’t he know how that made him _look_? He’d enlisted Clint to kidnap Wanda from under Tony and Vision’s watchful gaze, and, once again, all hell broke loose. Steve, it seemed, like to keep dangerous company. If Tony didn’t believe it yet, he certainly believed it once Steve broke his accomplices out of the Raft.

“Tony, I want to help…”

“Do you? Because I don’t think you know what that means anymore.”

Helplessly extending his arms before him, Steve said, “Tell me.”

Licking his lips feverishly, Tony closed his eyes. “You could’ve told me about Auntie’s fucking funeral.”

“Auntie…?”

“ _Peggy Carter_ , Steve. She was my godmother. But I guess you never stopped to wonder if I even _knew_ her. But hey, Birdboy was there for you, so that’s good.”

Steve had frozen at the announcement. It was true, Peggy Carter and Howard Stark had worked together for decades, even going so far as to found S.H.I.E.L.D. together, the odd backbone that had one day served to unite the Avengers together to save the world… but, outside of wondering if Peggy and Howard had ever become intimate, and the heavy feeling it made in his gut, Steve had hardly given the Stark family’s involvement in Peggy’s life a second thought. He still had a hard enough time accepting that Howard had settled down and had a real _family_ , a son…! Of _course_ he’d keep his friends close to him. Wouldn’t anyone? “I… I’m sorry, Tony. No one told you that was why I had gone?”

“Of course not. Everyone has secrets in our little group. And I seem to recall you being particularly sore about that.”

“Tony, please, let’s not start on that again.”

“She was my last living relative, Steve. I don’t care that she was just my godmother.”

“But…” Steve frowned. “Wouldn’t Pepper, or Happy, or someone have known to tell you…?”

Tony sighed heavily into his drink. “For the greater good. Not all of us can just walk away from something so important as the security of the world.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t _ask_ for that position!” Tony said sharply, ignoring the heartfelt apology. “I wasn’t trained like you, or Rhodey, or Sam. I’m not a damned soldier. I’m working with what I know as a military contractor. Trying to keep us all above water. But here we are. _Drowning_.”

What could Steve say? That, next time, he would take Tony with him in a heartbeat to see Peggy? That the thought that two of the most important people in his life being so closely interwoven made him feel a warmth in his heart? That it positively _ached_ to see Tony so torn up like this? That they shouldn’t have to be so secretive in their meetings together? He moved to speak, but Tony waved a hand. With a weighted sigh, Tony ordered another drink. “Steve, just go. I don’t feel like listening today,” he said, trying his best to keep the hurt from his voice. “Have fun and all.”

“…Call me, before you leave,” the blonde suggested hopefully before he drifted away out of sight.

“Heh. Not if I can help it,” Tony muttered into his fresh drink. If there was one thing Tony didn’t enjoy seeing after a night of self-pitying drinking, it was seeing Steve’s concerned, sculpted features in the morning light.

~~~

Sometimes Steve’s best intentions backfired, but he couldn’t help but try. Tony was a teammate, _and_ a dear friend, and he was suffering again. It seemed like Tony was always suffering lately. Ever since they first joined hands in New York. But what could Steve do to help him? He hated seeing his friend in pain.

“Tony… does not listen to reason,” Wanda observed, folding her arms over her chest. Steve had come to her to discuss his concerns. She was an excellent confidant and he always left her feeling a little better than before. Whether that was simply some trick she worked on him or not didn’t seem to matter. She genuinely cared. Still, Wanda was not as quick as usual with her words, mulling them about in her skull. “I am afraid Tony does not have the best coping habits.”

“But it’s all he knows,” Steve said, running a hand through his growing hair. He sighed, shaking his head. “The people he’s closest to aren’t around for him right now. He and Pepper have been at odds, and Bruce is MIA.”

“And you?” Wanda put forth, arching her slender brow.

“He just… I try. I try every time. I _tried_ listening, thought maybe if I didn’t try and talk him through it that he’d open up a bit better, but nothing works. He just doesn’t… _want_ to, I guess. He’s hitting the bottle again, too…”

“The human mind is a complicated thing,” the witch consoled him. “As is grief. I myself do not know how to discuss mine.” She had much grief, _too much_ grief, and regret. Steve consistently told her to take her time with things, that they all had regrets… but, if Wanda were allowed to speak freely—Steve simply wasn’t the best at coaching his friends through their hardships. He took on all his own in stoic silence. Not all of them could handle theirs so easily—or, at least, so valiantly.

Blinking, Steve turned to look at her with those brilliant blue eyes. There was hope there, she knew. For the life of her she did not want to hear his next words. They were loud enough without being voiced. “Hey, maybe you could talk to him? Offer him what you offer me, you know?”

“I… I do not know…” She bit her lip. She had a history with Tony Stark, a very one-sided, dark little history since she was a child. It was something that Steve likely could not be brought to understand, so instead, she asked, “Do you think he would have me?”

Steve blinked again, startled. Waving a hand before him, he said, “He’s fond of you! He kept trying to protect you, you know that.”

“Mm…” Wanda didn’t voice her thoughts on what Tony had done to her. Steve wasn’t utterly naive, but he _did_ believe in the goodness of his friends. Before becoming an Avenger, she had learned of their darker paths in life through Ultron, through their own minds. They were a very checkered group. Even Steve. Especially Tony. But she was willing to help Steve, was she not? Perhaps she should extend the good will? “I… I will _consider_ what you ask. I make no promises.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Steve said, giving her a warm hug. “I just don’t know what to do with him now.”

Watching Steve leave, Wanda sighed. “Neither do I.”

~~~

Despite her nervousness when faced with Steve’s fretful pleas, Wanda knew she would comply. She owed the man a great deal, and what he was asking what innocent enough; she was free to make her own decisions and abandon her mission at her leisure. The brunette left quickly, knowing she’d catch Tony at the same bar he’d met Steve in; the billionaire had no intentions of leaving it until he’d acquired a decent hangover. It was just how the man was of late.

It was early evening when she entered the bar, dressed in a knit dress and a fitted jacket. No one looked her way; she was emitting an aura of disinterest, one that men actually responded to in a place like this. She found herself doing it a great deal lately, just to go out in public and function like a normal person. Her friends had taken necessary precautions to safeguard her from any public hostility, but there was only so much they could do. She was something strange and disturbing, she knew. Those who did not shy from her presence were often overly aggressive towards her. So to prevent any incidents that would color her further in the public eye, she continued to gently peek into the hearts of those around her, causing them to look away.

Tony was there, as predicted. He was sitting at the bar on his stool, leaning forwards on one arm and drinking with his free hand. No one from his entourage was with him. He didn’t have the most positive body language, but he wasn’t as negative as Wanda had expected to find him, either. Perhaps this would not be so bad. She walked lithely forwards into the smoky bar and towards her ex-teammate. She was not as effeminate as Natasha Romanoff, but she was still rather catlike; she moved like a dancer, even in battle. Tony stole the lead from her, however, before she could decide on what to say. “What do _you_ want?” he grumbled darkly, not bothering to look at her.

Ah… perhaps this would go precisely as she expected, Wanda grimaced. Resting her delicately tapered fingertips atop the bar, she bit her lip. She knew what he immediately thought of upon recognizing her presence; it was practically being screamed from his skull right into her own. Leaning in, she said softly, “I _am_ sorry, Tony.”

Tony blinked into his drink as though it had called him something particularly racist. He had expected so many flowery, stupid words from the young foreign woman. But not _that_ one. “ _Sorry_? Do you even know what that means?” he demanded, setting his drink aside. It clanked noisily against the bar.

That petite mouth of hers opened wide as she stumbled on what to say before finally settling on, “I know you are in pain. Much has happened. I—”

“What do _you_ know about _my_ pain!?” Tony spat, glaring daggers at her. He slid out of his seat and leaned into Wanda’s personal space, pointing a finger at her pretty little head, in case she didn’t get that he was angry.

Despite Wanda’s efforts to go unnoticed, people began to look. “Hey, buddy. You ready to leave or something?” the bartender asked, eyeing the irate billionaire. Perhaps Tony had drank himself well beyond the legal limits of serving and plausible deniability…

“I can see you are upset. If it suits you, we could continue this conversation somewhere more… private,” Wanda volunteered, waving the bartender away. “If you like, of course.”

Eyeing her, Tony downed his drink and said, “Are you _sure_ you want to do that?”

Nodding slowly, Wanda gently took the glass from his hand and set it aside. “It is for the best. Please pay your tab. Do you have a ride?”

“Yeah. Okay. Sure.” Tony volunteered his card to the bartender and they waited in mutual silence as the man processed Tony’s bill. Wanda knew she shouldn’t have come, just as much as she knew she could still get away in these last few moments. But Tony was offering her something that no one else in the Avengers seemed to want to: accountability. By the end of the night, he would have her pay her dues. Perhaps then both their souls would be at rest.

~~~

The car ride was a silent thing. It was leading them to Tony’s hotel room, where so many a woman had gone before Wanda, long ago. But that was never to be. Wanda had touched a special place in Tony’s broken heart, a painful thorn that needed to be extricated. Was she the thorn, or the infected puss forming in the wound?

They sat down in the plush chairs opposite one another, gazing upon one another. Wanda couldn’t help but feel their age difference heighten itself beneath Tony’s stare; she felt little and childlike, awaiting her punishment from a parent. How many years ago had she ceased feeling such things? Too many. Pietro had rarely been harsh with her in their years together. And then he was gone as well, and she was left with no one. No one but Vision, and in his youthful, programmed mind, he had some difficulty understanding her pain.

Tony brought his fist to his bruised lips and rapped his knuckles against them, always staring ahead, his eyes burning a hole in Wanda’s forehead. The young woman before him was considered an ex-teammate, an ally of sorts, after all was said and done. But had Tony ever truly considered her such? She was very much opposed to him from the beginning. Sure, she was a victim of his past profession, but it was more than that. Was it because she could see inside his head? And did the knowledge that came with such a thing mean she was _right_ to be opposed? He couldn’t say. All he knew was she was a child, kicking and screaming against his better judgement to keep her from causing them _all_ trouble. He only wanted what was best for the team! Just because she was new didn’t mean she had any right to disrupt the delicate balance he had managed to scrape together to keep his friends safe over all these years.

“What gives you the right to fuck everything up?” Tony asked finally, behind his fist. His teeth pressured his skin, splitting it.

“I do not understand what you mean,” Wanda hazarded, licking her lips hesitantly. If she could coerce Tony’s feelings out of his chest during this session, perhaps she would have accomplished what Steve wanted.

Growling, Tony looked away for a moment. “I know you know what I’m thinking.” It was infuriating to know she could look into his mind, that she had done so at liberty, when she sat there so quietly, just watching him.

Crossing her legs and smoothing out her dress, the brunette said, “Only partially. I’ve learned not to listen so much, but it’s still loud. Especially when someone is hurting.”

Cutting his eyes back to her, Tony muttered, “Then you know.”

“Yes,” she admitted finally. It seemed as though a weight lifted from her, the way she shifted in her seat.

Not willing to let her burden of guilt be lifted from her shoulders, Tony demanded, “Then why are you here? Do you just not give a shit?”

“No, I…” Biting her lip, Wanda leaned forwards in her seat. “I believe as you do. That I need to be accountable for what I’ve done. The others, they do not feel as though I have committed any great sin, but I… I wish to atone all the same.”

Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Too good to be true.”

“It is!”

“Bullshit. You’re accountable for way too much now. Everything’s broken.”

“I understand how you feel—”

“ _Fuck_ you!” Tony shouted, glaring at his guest. “You weren’t there for New York. You! You were with Ultron! You just hopped on along for the ride right in the fucking middle of everything… _We_ went through so much together. What right do you have to just come along and rip that all apart?!”

“I have no right at all.” She said it simply, flatly. The situation was quickly becoming dire, but if she were to truly do her job, then it needed to go further. “Is this what you wish to hear?”

“I want you gone.”

“I… I can’t do that,” she admitted finally, weakly. She could not grant him this thing. “The Avengers are all I have left…”

“The Avengers are all _I_ have left! You’re not taking them from me!” Wanda gasped. For a moment there, Tony’s mind shifted. He was almost as angry with Steve as he was her. Steve had betrayed him, hurt him deeply, but… but she had been the catalyst to the end of their little family gathering. Had she just been in more control, this wouldn’t have happened. But as far as Tony thought, had she not even _been there_ , it never would have been an issue. The others had let in a rabid stray out of their stupid sense of compassion. One thing was certain; she couldn’t continue onwards with him feeling such anger towards Steve. It was like having your parents hate one another—it frightened her deeply.

“Steve is worried for you,” she whispered, averting her gaze. “He just wants you to be happy.”

“Get out of my goddamned head!” Tony lunged forwards, latching onto Wanda’s throat with his bare hands. They were unexpectedly rough for a pampered rich boy, calloused with years of mechanical tinkering. Her throat felt soft and tiny and oh-so _fragile_ …

Tears welled in Wanda’s eyes. It was phenomenally difficult not to lash out; her entire body was ready to explode in wrathful fury. In truth, some of her chaotic energy seeped from her, ghosting tendrils all around her and Tony. She still couldn’t control it perfectly. But perhaps, this is what it should be. Perhaps this was the only way she could atone…

Their moment of extreme intimacy was cut short as the door burst open and a familiar face rushed them both. “What the _fuck_ is going on here?!” Clint Barton yelled, throwing an arm around Tony’s neck and pulling back on him as hard as he could. “Let the kid go, Stark!”

Tony acquiesced, falling back into his seat with a deflated wumph. Clint released his hold and positioned himself between the two Avengers and glared angrily at them both. Wanda, grasping at her neck, tears welling in her reddened, misty eyes, looked up in wonder and asked, “But how…?”

“I tracked you!” Clint said, eyeing her. “We have an agreement, you know that! What’re _you_ doing letting him choke you out like that? Have you no sense at all?!”

Silence.

Huffing a sigh, Clint turned to glare at Tony. “You’ve got to get control of yourself, man. You’re going too damn far now!”

Tony shrugged his shoulders bodily. His hands were burning. Wanda’s neck was red, and she looked even more childlike now, staring at him with large, tearful eyes. “Good to see you know who your friends are, Legolas.”

Exhaling sharply and sucking in his lips in frustration, Clint slammed a hand down on Tony’s shoulder, gripping it hard. “ _Stark_. Stop making enemies out of everyone that gives a shit about you!”

Unexpectedly, Tony barked out a laugh. “Seriously. You’re going to tell me _you_ care about me? You just follow me around because of your director!”

Clint twitched and backed away. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I _should_ be reevaluating who I think my friends are.”

Jerking his head to the side and smirking, Tony shook his head. “Typical. None of you even stop to fucking _think_ about what I do for you!”

“Oh yeah?” Clint asked. “Like fucking choking Wanda?” the archer demanded, gesturing to the young woman.

Jumping onto his feet and standing nose to nose with Clint, Tony snarled, “You want to know who’s been financing your family since you’ve been gone? Me. _I_ picked up that bill!”

“What? But Fury—”

“Isn’t the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore. Resources have been reallocated. Personal lives seemed superfluous apparently, so I decided to handle that. Fancy that.”

Clint hesitated. There was no way to instantly confirm what Tony said was true, but what reason did the man have to lie? It did seem reasonable… With a grimace, Clint gave Tony a light head-butt. “ _Please_ , Tony. We all have to live with this.”

“I don’t know if I fucking can anymore.”

There it was. That was the underlying truth, Wanda realized, wide-eyed, staring at the two. Tony had lost his family, his friends, his purpose, his will… what did he have left? The Avengers. And the Avengers were no more. She was not the answer to this tragic problem. Steve was! Steve was still there for Tony; Tony just had a mental blockage to accepting the gentle soldier’s aid. “Stark…” The goatee’d billionaire glared daggers at her from over Clint’s shoulder, but she continued onwards. “Only Steve knows your pain, Stark. Share it, before you lose each other.”

“That time has come and gone,” Tony muttered darkly. The shield flashed before his eyes once more, his pitiful cries that it belonged to his father, going unanswered—at least, not in words. The shield was discarded, like his friendship, at his feet.

“Come on, kid,” Clint said, extending a hand to lift Wanda from her seat. “We should get going. You’ve got an early flight in the morning.”

Silently, Tony watched the S.H.I.E.L.D. spy leave with the witch. It wasn’t surprising that she and Clint had become allies, he mused. Clint was a spy, after all, and had a checkered past. He was also a father, as Tony had pointed out, and Wanda was young. Clint still felt responsible for her brother’s death. He shouldn’t, but he did.

Ah well. Tony would free him of that obligation by the end of the night. Staring at his hands, Tony gripped them tightly and waited.

~~~

Wanda awoke with a start. Mere inches from her face was another. Staring at her with a distorted look of pleasure was none other than Tony Stark. “Did you think I couldn’t find you?” he whispered, grinning madly. He was straddling her, she realized, feeling his weight pin her down to the mattress.

Confused, she pulled herself up slightly onto her elbows. “How…?”

Pleasure evolved into a cocky grin. “I put a tracker on you. You know. That’s sort of my thing. My job. You _are_ a fugitive. And I _am_ an Avenger. Defender of justice. Magical girl transformations and all.”

Nervously glancing towards her hotel room door, Wanda urged, “You should leave, before Clint—”

Tony shook his head. “Barton won’t interrupt us, not this time. I’ve got a jammer. It’s just us now.”

No Clint? He wasn’t the only one around, though. But was it safe to call to anyone, with Tony’s mind as shadowed as it had become? Could she let anyone witness this new depravity? No. She would have to try and handle this on her own. “Don’t do something Steve can’t forgive,” the brunette murmured, truly frightened now.

“Eh? Why does it have to be so one-sided? Why can he do something _directly to me_ that is unforgivable, but I can’t respond in turn? And really, this is just one more thing in the grand scheme of things. If I still mattered, someone would prove it, right? Pepper won’t return my calls. Rhodey’s been buddying up to Sam. I’ve been overshadowed by Barnes. Family’s all gone. Company runs without me. Foundations run without me. Government owns Iron Man. Owns me. I’m a puppet now. And I’m starting to see what Ultron really meant by having no strings. I made him all wrong…”

“You did not create Ultron, Stark. He put the pieces together himself.”

That grin grew into a twisted, ironic gem. “Don’t kid yourself, kid. Me and Bruce did everything but glue him together. We did a better job of it, the second time. Glitchy, I gotta say, but that can always be fixed. Has to be. The government demands it. Puppet’s gotta go where its strings pull it.”

Wanda could see the tendrils of thought escaping Tony’s mind. “What…?”

“Vision’s on ice,” he said, his brown eyes glowing oddly. “Took care of him after you guys left. Not really hard to get his attention, he still comes when called. He’s got a sense of duty, you know. Loyalty, not so much, but maybe we can work on that. Not like he has to be loyal to _me_ , anyway. Just the man. He’s just as much property as the rest of us. Maybe more. They don’t see him as alive.”

A pang struck Wanda’s chest. Even Vision was forfeit now? “Tony,” she began, softly, quietly, using her power.

“Nope!” Tony said, lunging at her with both hands. He was at her throat again, strangling the oxygen from her body with every ounce of strength he’d developed over the years.

Finally, filled with regret but knowing she had no choice, Wanda lashed out. Chaos energy wreathed them, snaking around Tony’s body, his skull, wreathing him. It penetrated his mind, but there was nothing there to manipulate. To break through his resolve would take _time_ , something she didn’t have very much of. Wheezing, she shut her eyes tightly as the red energy surrounding his hands and glowed brilliantly, bursting into nothing.

Tony’s hands were gone.

“Please, stop this!” she gasped, her chest heaving. “We can still fix this!”

Tony ignored her, instead raising his stumped arms before his eyes. Wide-eyed, Wanda watched as his arms began to glow with a queer energy. Grinning, Tony watched as his body began to reform. “Extremis. Took some practice working with it, and they couldn’t exactly _remove_ it from me, but I think I’ve got a hold of it now,” Tony remarked lightly, holding his reforming hands between them. “Now, where were we?”

Tears welled in the corners of Wanda’s eyes. It was too late, she knew now. Tony could not be saved, not anymore. And she could not bring herself to kill him. It had taken all of her resolve to maim him, and he bounced back from it like it were nothing. She could no longer tap into that well of hatred she had had for the faceless man of her past horrors, possibly just as much as he had drowned in the vast well of emotion that had formed within him.

Gently, serenely, Tony placed his calloused hands upon Wanda’s delicate throat once more. “Goodbye, little witch,” he said. Wanda whimpered. There were tears in his eyes, falling down upon her. He was crying. She was crying. Chaos energy enveloped them both, desperately attempting to separate them, Tony’s body glowing at every fresh wound, mending itself as he pressured her throat until it was finally crushed beneath his hands and her struggling fingers fell lifelessly to either side. It took a while longer for the strange chaos energy to dissipate, evaporating from the air like fog on a sunny morning.

Tony exhaled. Beneath him, laying amongst the disturbed sheets of her hotel bed, lay little Wanda Maximoff, the interloper of the Avengers. He’d done his job. It was time to go home.

For the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to call Steve that morning before his flight. And, finally, he realized, he didn’t think he’d ever could. That time of his life had come and gone like a breath in the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in checking out my original writing or spying on my two furbabbies antics? You can find us [here](http://nikkitapierrottie.com/)!


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